Seven Dates
by WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: They had six dates to prove to each other what they couldn't in eleven months.
1. Prologue

**Yes, yes, another WIP. I've been planning this one a while and I thought since I'm updating Season Five one to two times a month (so story follow that one if you don't want to miss anything) and starting to near the conclusion of A Conflict of Parallels, it was time to trot this one out. A few of you will have seen this title and known exactly what this is, but I hope those of you who are learning about this fic with the publication of chapter one are intrigued, and I hope all of you enjoy it!**

* * *

Six dates.

Walter studied himself in the mirror, straightening his collar and exhaling deeply, his cheeks puffing out. He looked handsome; it wasn't vanity, just self – awareness. This is what he looked like when people commented. This is what he looked like when Happy sarcastically called him a "babe magnet" with the sarcasm being related to her complete lack of attraction to him, not an insult to his appearance itself. _More like a Paige magnet,_ Toby had said once, smirking in his wife's direction. Paige certainly had stammered when she saw him that night, even though it was hardly the first time he'd been dressed up in her presence.

That wasn't the reaction he expected to get tonight, but there was a degree of dress – for – the – job – you – want at play here. One thing he knew – Paige knew it too – was that a reason their relationship had ended was because both of them started taking the other for granted. She developed expectations with unrealistic time for him to reach them, and he made That's Just How I Am excuses for things that he _could_ help but didn't consider important enough. That was the main thing that had to change this time around. He had to work on their relationship every day.

He had six dates. Six dates to show her. Six dates to prove to her what he had failed to prove in eleven months.

It was a two – way street, of course. She emphasized when they set the terms of this plan that _both_ of them had to do better. She'd owned up to the ways she'd let the relationship collapse.

So they agreed: they would go on six dates, alternating who set the plans. Three dates with an itinerary by Walter, three dates with an itinerary by Paige. One date per week for six weeks, with a maximum of one phone call per day for the first two weeks. No restrictions on texting. After that, their separate lives could come together again, at least in part – they could call when they wanted to, and he could see Ralph, if he wished. At the end of the sixth week – or rather, at the end of the sixth date – they would evaluate where they were. Then there would either be a date seven, where they would fall more or less into where they left off, both of them promising to continue to work on themselves and their relationship, or they would go their separate ways and not try again, no matter who had regrets or weak moments.

Six dates to sink or swim.

They were terms Walter agreed to, that he had no reservations about. In fact, he _liked_ that they had it worked out like this – relationships had no rubric or guidelines and this was something to that effect, something he could process and understand while they dipped their toes in again. However, he knew there was more pressure on him than on her.

He believed, no, he _knew_ that she was his soul mate, the only one in the entirety of the universe for him. He didn't care how bad they fought, how big of a misunderstanding they had, he would always _want_ to fight – for them. His pride would get in the way in the short term, as it had during their separation, but when it came to the long haul he couldn't think of anything he wouldn't do – or at least try his damndest to – to keep them together. That had been his problem the first time around. He had let himself be lazy and careless because he thought that she would call him out, like she had before, and then he would work on it again and they would be fine.

That was, perhaps, the biggest difference between the two of them. She was his first love. He was her second. She'd been betrayed and strung along so much by Ralph's father and she'd waited and believed and blamed herself and it had taken her years to accept that he had left her, but when she did, she got strong and hard and now wouldn't hesitate to walk away from something she thought might burn her before it actually did. She had the experience and knew it was possible to recover from losing the person you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. And while knowing her meant he knew it was possible, he still couldn't entirely believe it.

He couldn't imagine ever getting over Paige Dineen.

These dates were, in addition to everything else, Paige Dineen trying to see if it was possible to get over _him_.

He was sure she was nervous, too. She still loved him. She'd told him so the night they agreed to all of this. He had come to understand, during their time apart, that love wasn't enough. Not the feeling, anyway. Love was more than a feeling. It was a verb. If they wanted _this_ to work, _they_ would have to work. They had to both want to. They did both want to, they'd promised when they had made these decisions.

They had six dates to prove that to each other.

He looked at his watch. Their reservations were at eight, which meant he had to leave within five minutes – no, four now – in order to pick her up and get them there in time. He could only nervously fidget in front of the mirror for so long. It was time to go.

It was time for Date One.


	2. Date One

**I hate, hate, hate, hate, HATE writing restaurant scenes. They always come off as pretentious to me, and it's so hard for me to read or write one without cringing. So hopefully this one isn't as bad as I think it is.**

 **Also, to answer a few anonymous reviews – no, this has nothing to do with any other fic, especially not other fic I'm not even the author of.**

* * *

They had agreed to meet at the restaurant – maybe not something typical of a first date, but they both had to work until an hour which barely left enough time to get ready, a consideration Paige likely only thought applied to her, but one that ended up applying to Walter too, with all his huffing and puffing into the mirror.

He arrived first, and stood in front of the front door, declining an offer of the valet to sit on the bench. When Paige showed up, he couldn't help but smile – even though he'd been reminding himself not to act too over the top. She was in a black dress that went to her knees and he could tell by the way her hair shone that she'd used that expensive shampoo that he always told her she didn't need but she liked anyway.

"Hey there," she said when their eyes met, a smile on her face.

"Hey," he said, wondering how to greet her. She answered his question when she walked up and gave him a polite hug. "You look very nice."

"Thank you," she said, straightening his collar – he knew it was straight, that had to have been out of habit – and smiling at him. "This place is gorgeous, at least from what I can see of it."

"It just opened," Walter said, wanting to have replied with a _so are you_ but wondering if that was too much. Too soon. Too vulnerable. Too familiar.

Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe that was why they hadn't worked before. Or maybe it was because he hadn't thought enough, about the right things at the right time. "Shall we?" He gestured toward the door.

"I would love that," she said with a smile.

They were seated and placed their order and made small talk about their day without getting into too much detail – partly because of their backstory and partly because they didn't want to risk the other knowing too much about the competing company. They had a lot of kinks to work out. _But we both want to work them out, or we wouldn't be here._ Walter reminded himself of that when they fell into silence, Paige staring down at the table and Walter watching her, but suddenly not knowing what to say.

"How do you have a first date with someone you used to date?"

She lifted her head, and Walter noticed she was biting her lip. "I don't know. I've never done it before."

"Me either."

Paige cocked her head. "We could pretend that we're actually on a first date? Maybe?"

"Like we were set up, or something?"

"Sure."

"I can do that." Walter cleared his throat, folding his hands and leaning forward. "So, Polly. Tell me about yourself."

Paige rolled her eyes – but she chuckled, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "It's Paige, actually."

"Oh, right." He made a show of touching the back of his palm to his forehead. "So awkward."

It pleased him when she laughed again. "Well, Walter," she said, "I've been twenty – nine years old for a couple of years now" – his turn to chuckle – "I have a son, Ralph, and he's my world, and I love music and road trips. And fancy restaurants," she added, raising her eyebrows slightly. "You outdid yourself here, Mr. O'Malley."

"I'm glad you like it. It's new." Walter realized he'd said that already. "But it's gotten great reviews on the Yelp. And it's O'Brien," he said, still playing along.

"I can believe it. It's gorgeous, and I know we're still waiting for our food, but the plates that have gone by us?" She made an _mmm_ sound. "I'm not even big on that kind of heat and I can't stop thinking about those stuffed chili peppers."

"A very American dish," Walter said. "Did you know that chili peppers, along with tomato and even chocolate – used to only exist in the Americas? Dishes featuring them have been perfected and popularized all around the world, but…" he paused. "I'm sorry. I'm not being romantic."

"It's okay."

"No it's not. You said we couldn't ever go on dates without me talking about…about facts, non – romantic facts, and I'm…I'm doing it again." He sighed, staring down at the napkin in his lap. "I can do better."

"Walter." She stretched her hand across the table. Hesitantly, he reached over and placed his in hers, feeling her fingers curl around him. "This _definitely_ won't work if either of us overanalyze everything we say and do."

"I know. But I can't be better unless…unless I learn to recognize when I'm doing it."

"Walter, anecdotes and all that, like, it's fine. Just maybe not all the time. That's all. Sometimes I just want to be sappy romantic without science. It doesn't mean I don't think it's crazy beautiful that molecules that have existed since the beginning of time came together to create us. It's just that occasionally, I just want to…" she shrugged, "bask in each other. And not care about why."

He nodded. "I understand. Thank you for explaining it."

There was light pressure on his hand as she squeezed it. "You're welcome. Of course."

"I, uh…oh, food is here," Walter turned with a default smile pasted on for the waiter. "Yes, hello."

"For the lady," the waiter set, placing Paige's entrée down in front of her. He took the other plate. "And the gentleman."

"Thank you," Paige said.

"Please let me know if there is anything else I can get for you," he said, giving a little bow with his head before retreating.

"For the lady," Paige said, to Walter, mimicking the waiter's body language. She started giggling when he smirked. "Honestly as much as I hated that diner, at least at least Nemos was cool with 'okay, here's your steak and eggs, enjoy,' and then walking away."

"Oh, so you used to work at a diner?"

Paige stared at him for a solid three seconds before realization dawned on her. "Oh, the first date thing." She laughed. "Yes, yes, I did. It was a long time ago and I am _so_ glad that part of my life is behind me."

Walter felt a twinge of anxiety. _She's here. She wants to try this again. That was not a loaded comment._ "I'm glad it is, too," he said. "If you're glad." They were still holding hands. He squeezed it. She squeezed back, then released, picking up her fork to dig into her food.

"Delicious," Walter commented. He'd ordered a chicken pasta dish, not his usual choice, but certainly not a bad one.

"Can I taste?" Her fork hovered above his plate.

"Be my guest."

"Wow," she said, raising her eyebrows as she chewed. "You're right, that's incredible. Pasta can be difficult to do properly, and it works perfectly with the chicken." She dabbed her napkin at the corner of her mouth. "I'm surprised you didn't get any fish."

"Well, you know," he said, "I wanted to try something different. It worked out, I think."

"Good," she said. "Do you want to try mine?"

Hers was…also something from the chicken family, but it was seasoned differently than his. Walter liked it. Months ago, they may have just eaten freely off each other's plates, but tonight they mainly stuck to their own. Walter supposed there were a lot of boundaries they would have to wait to bridge again.

The waiter showed up and offered dessert, but when Walter glanced at Paige, she gave a subtle shake of her head. "No thank you, just the bill, please." His mind was going a million miles an hour – and he was anxious enough to not even mind the hyperbole – and she seemed to notice. "I'm having a good time," she said. "I was just up at four, and I haven't seen Ralph, and I just want to be able to be home before he goes to bed."

"Understandable," he said, sure his relief was visible. "These plates were very filling, anyway."

The waiter brought the bill, and Walter paid cash, having thought ahead, worried he may be stuck in an awkward silence while waiting for them to run the card. He got up and walked around the table, easing Paige's chair back and helping her into her jacket. She thanked him, smiling, and while he fully admitted he had failed at reading her in the past, he knew the look she gave him was genuine. There was no faking that look.

Before, it had seemed easy. They loved each other, so of course they were going to be together. Even when they had rough patches, it had never occurred to Walter that it might end. This time, they were approaching it in a more traditional sense, going on dates, evaluating their feelings, both about each other and the relationship, and they had a set point – six dates – where they would be deciding whether to proceed as before or end things for good. This time they were both acknowledging that relationship were hard, that feelings alone weren't enough.

Prior to this date, that had scared Walter, but now he felt differently. Now he could see exactly how to make this work. He just had to make sure she knew that.

The valet brought Paige's car around first, and she turned to him. "Walter, I honestly had a really nice time tonight."

He smiled – though not as widely as he wished. "I did too. It was nice. To be around you."

She nodded. "I agree."

This all felt nice, comfortable, familiar, but Walter knew both of them were still walking on eggshells, to a degree. It would take them through a decent percentage of these dates before they knew how to operate within the experiment, and then it would be just about over. It was daunting, intimidating…but he would do it. He would do whatever it took, because standing next to her felt more right than anything else he'd ever experienced. "Uh," he said, lifting a hand to touch his closed fist to his lips as he cleared his throat, "there was another reason I ordered chicken and pasta."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yes. I know you aren't a fan of the smelly fish, and I was thinking…I mean, I would like…" he cleared his throat again. "May I kiss you goodnight?"

There was an amused playfulness in her _uh, hell yeah_ that made him extra glad she agreed. God, he'd missed her so much.

The kiss was brief, almost perfunctory as both of them were still hesitant, and _nothing_ like the ones they'd shared in the past, but Walter thought it might be his favorite one they had ever had between them, because it was one that, for a while, had seemed might never happen. When their lips separated after an all too little amount of time, they smiled at each other. "I'll call you."

She raised her eyebrows. "You'd better, mister."

"Well, the next date is _your_ choice."

"Oh, I know," she said. "And trust me, I've got something pretty cool planned."


	3. Date Two

"So what are we doing tonight?" Walter asked as Paige hopped into the passenger seat of his car before he even had time to get out and hold the door and tossed a blanket into the back seat. "What's the big surprise?"

"It wasn't a _surprise_ ," she said with a smile. "Just what it was…didn't come up."

"Okay. Well, it's come up now," Walter pointed out. "What is on the agenda for Date Two?"

"We are going to the _Drum, Stars, and Swallows_ concert, down by the museum."

 _Drum, Stars, and Swallows_ were an indie group based out of Portland – Oregon, not Maine. Paige had their debut album and most recent LP in her iTunes library, and Walter vaguely remembered her telling him they were coming to the L.A. area. The museum would be more interesting to him, of course, but part of making this work was taking an interest in each other's...wait. "Did you have these tickets before we broke up?"

"No," she said. "They actually didn't go up until a week or so after. But I just got these a few days ago. They're just lawn, but it should be fun."

Walter felt a twinge that he recognized as hesitation. Insecurity. Dread. "Sure. Sure."

"I know that tiny performances are kinda hard on you," she said. "Like when we went to my friend's show. But it's easier to not be self – conscious in larger groups. I think that may be part of why you felt more comfortable in L.A. than in that tiny town in Ireland." She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "So I was thinking that maybe something a little larger…maybe two hundred people, nothing too crazy, would be something fun where you wouldn't feel the need to shut down and withdraw into yourself. And I don't know the band, so you don't have to worry about impressing my friends. It's just gonna be you and me, blending right into the crowd like any couple on a date to a concert. I think the context will help you enjoy it."

"Sure," Walter said again. "That's a valid hypothesis." He looked over at her and smiled. She was wearing a pink dress that fit her well but wasn't snug. Perfect for an outdoor evening, even he knew that. "You look very nice."

"Thank you," she said. "The dress is…well, pretty new."

Pretty new, as in she didn't buy it for this, but did do so after they broke up. Walter bit his lip, pushing down the feeling that was trying to manifest in his stomach. _Don't go there._

But his hand must have tensed, or just changed slightly, because Paige's face changed too, and he hoped she wouldn't know exactly what she was thinking. "I didn't buy it for a date with someone, if that's what you're thinking."

Dammit.

"I actually haven't been on any dates," she continued. "Or…hookups, or anything like that. Work, home, work, home. You know. So yeah, nothing."

"Okay," he said, staring forward at the road. That wasn't supposed to matter. Anything you do while not in a relationship wasn't supposed to make a difference. Why should he care if she had dated? Why should it matter if she had slept with someone?

Was he a bad person for being relieved to hear she hadn't?

No, he thought to himself. Bad people were people who thought women were less wonderful or less worthy of love and affection the more sexual partners they had. He remembered reading something that said that the guy who started those Playboy magazines initially did so out of insecurity that his first wife had been more sexually experienced than him when they had met. If that bothered Walter, then he never would have wanted Paige in the first place. The idea that being with more people made intimacy less special was, as Happy put it, _just fucked up, pardon my French._ He was glad in this case, however, that it seemed that the four months they were apart wasn't long enough for her to have moved on from him. It made him more hopeful that they could take this beyond the guaranteed six dates.

"What about you?"

The question took him by surprise, and then he felt a tiny touch of anger, no, not anger, but _annoyance_. This, he thought, had to have been why she suddenly was offering up that she hadn't been with anyone. So she could then ask him if he had. She hadn't known what he was wondering, she couldn't read his mind. She had been looking for any excuse to find out if he and Florence had been pawing at each other without sounding paranoid and jealous.

 _Unsuccessful._

"No," he said. "Me either. Busy, you know."

Busy, you know. As if he used to go out boning every weekend when business was slow.

"Yeah." Paige nodded. "Really?"

The fact that she honestly thought that maybe he had been out getting his single on while she went to work and home and shower, rinse, repeat actually made him kinda sad. "Well," he said, glancing at her. "You know, I know you doubted me a lot there, in the end, but I was never looking for that sort of thing from someone else. And it wasn't because I had you. It was because I _wanted_ you. So us being apart didn't change that, I – I mean," he added, his ears turning pink, "I mean that I…" He meant that he wasn't really interested in dating in general, but _she_ made it appealing, _she_ made him want it all, and while he couldn't say that he would _never_ date again if they stayed apart, he knew with certainty that it would take him a while. He couldn't let go of the emotional attachment that came with their relationship that quickly. Maybe that was a strength, maybe it was a weakness. But it _was._

He realized that he still hadn't completed a sentence, and her thumb lightly stroking the back of his hand brought him out of the jumbled hell that was his brain. "What I mean is, you know I was basically single for a while before we started. And we haven't been apart that long, and I don't figure things out that quickly. So."

"No, I get it," she said, as if she knew – and she probably did, it wasn't their _actual_ second date, after all; she did know him better than pretty much anyone else – that he had been going to add " _I'm sure that doesn't make any sense_ ," to the end of what he was saying. "Same for me, honestly."

"Yeah?"

She shrugged. "We were together for almost a year. It's hard to get over someone that fast, especially when…well, it's hard to get over someone that fast."

* * *

When they'd spread the blanket on the hill and settled down on it, Paige pulled a water bottle out of her purse and took a swig. "You want some?"

Walter frowned. "How did you get that in here? The sign said no outside food or drink."

"Well, Mr. O'Brien," she said, "male privilege is all around us. But the one time when being a woman – or rather, having the body parts mainstream society considers female – is beneficial is when you're sneaking stuff in in your purse. You put it at the bottom of a section and fill the rest of it with tampons, then you get in a bag check line with an older dude. He opens it, sees tampons, and ushers you right though with a _haveanicetimema'am._ "

Walter laughed.

"Remember when we were walking downtown and I slipped into a restaurant to use the bathroom? Some of those fancier places have a code on the door, and you have to be a patron of the establishment to have it. But if you're a woman and you walk up to a male waiter or host clutching your purse in front of you and kinda shyly go e _xcuse me, um, this is awkward, but, uh, do you have a bathroom_?"

" _Ohofcourserightthiswayma'am_?"

"Yep." Paige stretched her legs out in front of her. "It's crazy how squeamish they get. Like, I'm sure they have, like, wives and shit." She held the bottle out again. "You want the water or no?"

"Sure." At least this bottle had a cap. Everyone sitting around them with bottles with the venue's label on it hadn't been allowed the cap. He didn't understand why places did that. "Who is starting?"

"Starting the...oh, the opening group? _Letters from Hayley._ " Paige took the water bottle back and tucked it back into her purse. "I hadn't heard of them prior to this show being announced, but I listened to some of their songs online and they're pretty good. I think so, anyway. They have a good beat."

A good beat. Walter could appreciate that. He enjoyed melodies and lyrics – when they made sense – but the rhythm was mathematical, formulaic. That was his wheelhouse.

There was a smattering of applause from the crowd, and they looked up, seeing the stage was set. Walter noticed Paige wasn't moving from where she was, stretched out on the towel. She looked enticing, but he pushed that thought away, because he wasn't supposed to think of her like that. "Did you want to stand up?"

"Yeah," she said, "eventually. Once more people get here. But the opening duo is more easy listening, so most of the crowd will probably stay down. That's kinda their thing, something we can relax to." She patted the spot next to her. "You wanna come here?"

He was already sitting next to her, but he eased back, turning onto his side and scooting closer to her, his head propped up on his hand. "Glad the weather was nice today, with this being outside."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course the weather is nice, it's Southern California. The weather is always nice, now are you going to kiss me or what?"

He grinned, shifting closer still and putting his lips on hers, reaching over to rest his hand on her hip – respectfully – and feeling her smile as she kissed him back. She wiggled until she was stretched out against him, her hand on his face, and Walter couldn't decide if he loved this because it was her and they hadn't made out in what felt like forever or if he hated it because this felt so normal and so right and yet they still hung in an agonizing limbo.

When the music started and Paige pulled away to look at the stage, Walter glanced quickly around, relieved to see that several other couples – although most were at least ten years younger than him and Paige – had been kissing on their blankets as well.

The woman in the duo – presumably Hayley, who presumably wrote letters – did lead vocals on a short song about beginnings, then began to prattle on about being so excited to be performing in Los Angeles. Walter wanted to turn to Paige and mutter about how technically, _technically_ this wasn't Los Angeles, but he strongly suspected she would roll her eyes and now that he thought about it, the comment _was_ rather pedantic.

See? He was learning.

Hayley and the tall fellow began another song, a full length one this time, and Walter and Paige shifted up into sitting positions. A few people were standing, but he would guess that about ninety percent of the sixty or seventy people who were here early were seated. His hands were pressed into the blanket, supporting his weight as he leaned on them, and he looked down a minute or so into the song when Paige put one of her hands over his. When his eyes lifted, she was looking at him, and they smiled at each other before turning back to face the front. When the next lyric was _the touch of your hand makes my heart sing a happy song_ , Walter wondered if this was one of the songs Paige had looked up.

 _Letters from Hayley_ was on for about twenty – five minutes, and then the workers got to re – setting the stage for _Drum, Stars, and Swallows_. More people were filing in, several wearing shirts from the merchandise stand – mostly a red fitted tee with _We Might Be Quirky_ on it in a font that did not fit – it was more annoying and difficult to read than anything else. But _Quirky_ had been their debut single, Walter knew that much, and it didn't surprise him that the most popular tee shirt featured the name. If he remembered correctly, their groupies were called the Quirks. "So why isn't it _Drums, Stars, and Swallows_?" He asked. "Why singular?"

"They started out in a music room at a high school that the band kids called The Drum Beat. I think they said in an interview for their LP that it was because for years this kid would practice during his free hour and they could hear the drum beat through the entire first floor of the school. So they wanted to incorporate where they started into their name."

"Interesting."

"I know it's not grammatically correct necessarily, since they obviously have multiple drums. But it has meaning to them. And the Quirks love it, since, you know, every school has an old music room. It makes them more relatable. Anything that can make people think _they're just like us_ always helps any sort of public figure, but musical groupies are all about it, whether the name makes sense to the outside or not."

Her words reminded him of something Toby told him about years ago, something he had said to Happy about how love could still work even if it was misspelled and messy. "That makes sense. Sometimes meaning can transcend logic."

The way she looked at him then sent a shiver down his spine. A few months ago, he would have kissed her. Now he wasn't entirely sure if the timing was right.

A roar went up from the crowd – now numbering several hundred – and Paige looked at the stage and grinned, scrambling to her feet. Walter got up just after her, brushing a few blades of grass off of his shirt that had somehow gotten stuck despite them laying on the blanket.

 _Drums, Stars, and Swallows_ was a trio, and they appeared in a beam of light in the center of the stage seemingly from nowhere, immediately launching into an upbeat tune about summers on the beach. Walter thought he recognized it. A glance at Paige told him she knew it; she was mouthing the words. But she wasn't as energized as some of the others, so it must not be a favorite. He most _certainly_ would have recognized it if it was.

The next song was another fast one, and then the lead singer – a girl with tattoos and two long braids that went to her hips – hopped up on a stool and started telling a story about how their tour bus got a flat and while they were waiting outside of it, a bird popped on Taylor's head. "At least the bird was considerate and chose someone who didn't have to wash their hair!"

Paige laughed. So did most of the other people in attendance. Walter assumed that that meant Taylor was the bald guy.

"So this is a song we actually just wrote, while we were waiting for them to fix the damn tire," the girl said, and there was another smattering of laughter. "Okay fine, it's not that recent, but we never performed it before this little tour, so we hope you guys enjoy it! I'm loving your energy here tonight, so let's keep that rolling!"

There were several _woos_ from the concert goers as they struck up the chords.

"Are you having fun?" Paige asked, turning to him with her eyebrows raised.

"Yes," he said truthfully. "The rhythms are nice. And I'm here with you."

"Mmm, look at you, saying exactly the right thing again," she said, pressing up against him and grabbing his hands where they hung at his sides. She kissed him, sound and solid, and then turned back, swaying to the music. Walter found himself absentmindedly swaying with her, the two of them part of a natural wave rippling through the audience.

The next song was slow, "Hearts, Hips, and Lips" he thought it was called. Kiley – _that_ was the girl's name, Kiley took a seat on the stool again, reaching out to grab the hand of the third singer, a chubby guy in a flattering black outfit. Walter couldn't remember his name, either. _Damn, maybe Paige was right. Maybe I really was half – assing this._ Kiley and Not Taylor started to sing together, and yes, Walter thought, this was definitely "Hearts, Hips, and Lips." Paige loved this song. And even though it was dark now, the only lights coming from the stage and the spots along the perimeter of the lawn, and he could barely see her, just her silhouette and the light in her eyes, she looked beautiful. She always did, but there was something about standing next to her when one of her favorite songs played out in front of them. There was something extra special about her then.

Walter took two steps, one backward and one to his right, so he was standing directly behind her. He stepped close, sliding his arms around her waist, her back resting against his chest. He put his chin on her shoulder, smiling when she placed her arms and hands over his. Turning his head, he kissed her cheek, and they swayed together, lost in more than the song.


	4. Date Three

**Fi – nal – ly an update to this one, so sorry guys. Hoping to get another update to both this one and my other two WIPs within the next week or so. Please review this one and the others if you're enjoying them, I've gotten just a small fraction of the usual on them and I don't know if people are losing interest in the stories or Scorpion fic in general; it's very hard to tell where people's heads are at when reviews just don't come in.**

* * *

Walter thought Date Three was going well.

He had to put some careful thought into what they were going to do. What he _wanted_ was to invite her to the garage, make food, and then sit on the couch and watch movies, like they used to so very often. It was also a very acceptable date idea, he thought. However, it was only the second date he was picking, and inviting her over, he decided, wouldn't work as there was no set end time for a date that took place at someone's home. If she decided to leave, he would wonder if it was something he said. If he suggested she leave, she would find him rude. There were too many variables. Going _out_ left much clearer boundaries.

So for Date Three, he and Paige were sitting at a high table in the back of a bar, sipping a water and Bloody Mary, respectively, listening to a routine by a local stand up comedienne. Walter wasn't entirely certain where the woman was going with half of her jokes, but Paige laughed right along with everyone else, and a few of Walter's chuckles were genuine; the woman certainly had good timing and facial expressions. He could appreciate that, even if he didn't quite understand how the Monster Mash was 'full of innuendos' or why she was even talking about a Halloween song in mid – September.

"Thank you!" the comedienne said, lifting a hand and smiling as everyone cheered and applauded. Walter did so politely along with them, watching Paige as she lifted her hands as she clapped. Turning to Walter, she picked up her drink, taking another sip. "She was really funny."

"She was," he agreed, deciding not to point out that humor was subjective. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."

"Are _you_ enjoying it? This isn't exactly your scene."

"Of course I am. I'm with you."

She tipped her head in a seemingly flirtatious fashion. "You've said that before, since we started this."

"It's true." He gave her a small, slightly shy smile. "I've realized that it matters less what we're doing and more that we're doing it together. Like when we argued about where our first kiss was. It's just important that we kissed. And with dates, it's just important that we're on them. I…I think it's just a fact of life that some things you enjoy I don't, and some things I enjoy you don't. But as long as we remember that we're sharing our lives with each other…it will work. I've really given this a lot of thought," he added quickly when she smiled and he couldn't tell if she was pleased or just amused.

Paige reached across the table, squeezing his hand. "I like that. I like that a lot. But seriously, you're not bored?"

Walter felt a rush of confidence at her response to his analysis. "Of course not."

"Ah. Too bad." At Walter's confused look, she continued. "I was thinking we could get out of here. Paint the town…well, paint the town, at least."

Walter wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I wouldn't mind that. Our drinks and appetizers are paid for."

Paige ginned, standing up. "Let's go."

* * *

An hour later, Walter realized he wasn't entirely sure where they were. They'd just started walking, catching up on Ralph and Cabe and Allie's Not So Secret upcoming engagement, and suddenly he realized they were in a park, one that reminded him of MacArthur, but wasn't. Paige seemed to know where they were, so he didn't question it.

She led him to a bench in front of a pond and sat down, gesturing to the seat beside her. "Hey," she said affectionately as he lowered himself, tipping her head to the side to rest on his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his and linked his fingers with those on her other hand.

"Hey," he repeated, tipping his head to rest on hers. "Tonight is a good night, I think."

"It is," she said. "It's lovely weather, the moon is full."

"Almost full," Walter said. "Waxing gibbous." Oops _._ Surely he was allowed one science fun fact?

"It will be full on the twenty – fourth I think," Paige said, not seeming to mind his comment. He squeezed her hand. She lifted her head off of his shoulder and smiled at him, giving a little chuckle. "You know, I'm trying to think of small talk about the weather and celestial bodies and honestly all I'm actually thinking about is…" she trailed off, biting her lower lip.

Walter cocked his head. "Thinking about what?"

"You want to make out?" Paige didn't wait for a verbal response, but Walter had certainly given her his answer in the grin that came over his face. She cupped his jaw in her hands, putting her lips against his, kissing him slowly and sweetly for a few seconds before drawing in a breath and wrapping her lips around his lower one and sucking gently. Walter shifted his weight, putting his hands on her waist, and she rose up on the bench, shifting until she was over him and then settling on his lap.

They could certainly kiss better from this angle. Walter grinned as her mouth returned to his. He gripped her hips, remembering that she liked the feel of that, and he pushed his tongue into her mouth, sliding a hand up to the middle of her back as if to keep her right where she was. Paige moaned quietly, a hand in his hair, the other still against his jaw, and she stroked his tongue with her own, their mouths separating with a light smacking sound when they both drew breath. Paige moved her lips to his jaw, and then his neck, pressing her hips down against his for leverage.

 _Shit_. Walter steeled himself, blowing air out through his nose, feeling suddenly lightheaded – for medical reasons and in alarm – as the blood rushed away from his head. They weren't having sex tonight, he reminded himself, and damn, he used to be able to kiss her like this for a lot longer before worrying about getting hard. Of course, when they used to kiss like this an erection wouldn't have been embarrassing. This was different.

Thinking about how different it was was enough to help, some. He relaxed back into it, kissing her earlobe, enjoying the way he could feel her hot breath when she sighed. She put her lips back on his, a hand going around to the back of his head. He could feel her fingernails scratching his scalp, getting tangled in his curls. He ran his tongue along her lip, his fingers running along her spine, and she shuddered, breathing his name.

"Paige, we have to stop," he blurted, tensing under her and putting his hands on her shoulders to gently push her back.

He could see her decently well in the almost – full moon, and so he knew she could see him well, too. She took one look into his dilated eyes and realization dawned as he let out a long, loud breath through his lips. "Oh. Oh, right, I'm s…" she swung her leg back over him, settling back down on the bench. She hovered a hand over his arm, as if worried that touching him might make it worse. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

He reached over with his other hand and pressed hers between it and his arm. He hadn't even been far enough for her to notice, he certainly wasn't going to embarrass himself at the touch of her hand. "It's okay. Everything's…" he thought finishing that thought with _under control_ sounded too dramatic. "Everything's fine."

"Okay." She leaned over, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Honestly I was probably getting a little ahead of myself too, for a minute there." She chuckled. She was embarrassed, he could tell, and he found that strange, given that he had very nearly shoved her off of his lap to prevent his own embarrassment. He smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek very similar to the one she had given him. "I'm sorry," she blurted.

"Nothing to apologize for." He smiled at her. "Although maybe a little less…s…"

"Straddling," they said together, giving little laughs in unison. She cocked her head. "Is a little more kissing too much?"

He wasn't _that_ juvenile, even though he hadn't been entirely honest with her about what he had been up to, in this respect, since they broke up. "Of course not," he said, smiling and leaning in, electing to avoid that particular topic for now. When their lips touched again, he could feel her own smile, and while it made for slightly stranger kissing, he would have been lying if he said he enjoyed it any less. She scooted nearer and he put his arm around her, welcoming her nestling in close.

"You know," Paige said, after what could have been seconds or hours, "we're going to have to call an Uber to get back to the restaurant and pick up our cars. I actually have no idea where we are."

For some reason, Walter found that immensely funny. At first Paige seemed confused as to why he was laughing, but seeming to get the humor in the situation, she joined him just moments later. "My phone still has some juice," he said. "I'll call us one."

She grinned at him. "These dates. Three down, three to go."

He looked at her curiously. Was she treating this as just something she had to get through? And if so, what outcome was she looking forward to?

He didn't want these seeds of doubt in his mind. So he pushed them down, agreeing with Paige and smiling, and hoping she didn't pick up on his faltering confidence. Said confidence was new, sudden. He didn't want it to go away.

And yet it had.

* * *

 **You didn't think I was going to do a whole fic of fluff, now did you? (Also, don't blow up him keeping some detail from her and freak out. It's nothing she would be mad at him for.)**


	5. Date Four

When Paige picked Walter up for Date Four, it was her first time there since the night everything had gone wrong. She had been a few minutes early and he was still shutting down his computers, so he invited her inside – Cabe and Florence were gone for the evening – and she'd wandered around a little bit, as if lost in her thoughts or her memories. She looked flustered when she realized he was ready and was just watching her.

"Where are we going?" He asked once they were in the car.

"Zuma," she said. "It's a pretty night."

"It is," he agreed.

They parked a bit away from the few other cars and walked in the opposite direction. This was the same beach where they had spent their first Christmas Eve, where they had saved a boy who had been trapped in a cave as the tide came in. They were, thankfully, over a mile from the rocks. Those memories would be a little much to deal with.

Paige led him down the sand to the water, and they stepped in, letting the waves lap at their ankles. "It's pretty, isn't it?" She asked.

"It is." He nodded, then looked at her. "You are prettier."

She looked flustered and pleased. "Wow. That's sweet."

"You sound surprised," he teased.

"Nah," she said, stepping closer and putting her arms around his neck. "You're sweet."

He kissed her, sliding his arms around her and pulling her close. "I try."

She tucked her head under his chin. "You succeed."

They stood in the surf for a long time, rocking back and forth. Then Walter broke the silence. "Should we walk?"

"Sure." She lingered a moment before releasing him and they turned, opting to walk farther still from the rocks. Walter reached out with his hand, and Paige slipped her hand into it. They smiled at each other.

The sun was fading fast below the horizon, sending glorious colors streaking across the sky. Oranges and pinks and yellows and reds – if the old saying was correct, it was the sort of sky that made sailors delight. Walter and Paige's hands swung slightly between them as they walked, chatting about various topics that usually led back to Ralph. Walter had been talking to him again. They had seen each other, briefly, just two days before. He was sure Paige's son had told her all about their hour of catching up, but he wanted to share the details, too. He had missed that boy. He had missed him terribly.

"Oh, look at that," Paige said, breaking a peaceful silence. "A crustacean."

Walter noticed the striped shore crab - _Pachygrapsus crassipes_ – crawling a few feet away. "There's actually something incredibly interesting about…" He stopped, looking away from the crab, his eyes meeting hers again.

 _I want to be able to hold hands and walk on the beach without the person I'm with prattling on about scientific facts literally nobody cares about._

Okay, maybe those weren't Paige's exact words. But it was the gist. Walter came to a stop and looked at her suspiciously. "Was that some sort of test?"

"What?"

"Oh, look at that," he said, mimicking her tone. "A crustacean." He frowned. "You don't talk like that."

Paige tugged her hand away from him and folded her arms. "What does that mean?"

"You were testing me to see if I would tell you about it, weren't you?"

"That's actually not what I was doing," Paige said. "What about my comment was weird to you?"

"You don't use the word 'crustacean'."

She raised her eyebrows, her arms still crossed. "It's weird to you that I'm using a big fancy science word? Is that it?"

"It's just not a word that you use every day, that's all."

"That's rather pedantic of you, an observation like that." She lifted her chin. "You're going to insult my intelligence while simultaneously pulling the same thing you always did when I just wanted to have some romantic evening? I was hoping that maybe we could actually go somewhere without you falling back into this."

Walter shook his head. "You know, I know this is a trial period, but I didn't think you would be treating it as a kind of interview. Being your boyfriend isn't a job, you know."

"How else are we supposed to figure out if we're gonna work this time?" Paige asked. "If we don't see how we react in situations that caused issues last time?"

One thing Walter was realizing, staring at her in that moment, was that she'd treated their relationship this way the last time, too, having an idea in her head of what she wanted her life partner to be and getting upset when he wasn't that exact person.

 _Second verse, same as the first._

"I want us to be together because we want to be together," he said, folding his own arms. "Not because I tick all the boxes on whatever rubric you have in mind."

"Really," Paige said, "because that sounds like exactly the type of thing your science wired brain would be super into. Just like having a partner who doesn't sound like they're trying too hard when they use a basic sixth grade word like _crustacean_."

Walter sighed, putting a hand up to his forehead. "I don't know what to do with this, Paige. I thought things were going well."

"I thought they were too." She shook her head. "But we're already right back to where we were before."

They stood still, arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart, staring at each other, unblinking in the sunset. Then Walter sighed. "I guess this date is over."

"Guess so." She tipped her head to the side. "We came in one car. I'll take you home."

"No need," Walter said. "I'll call Cabe."

"Cabe, huh?"

"Yes, Cabe. Who else would I call?" Oh, you have got to be kidding me," he said after a moment, when he realized what she was getting at. "No. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I have no feelings for her like that." They had talked about this. They had spent a significant time talking about it. That wasn't supposed to be an issue anymore.

"Fine. Cheap shot on my part. I'll give on that." She looked toward her car. "I guess I'll see you, then."

"Guess so."

It occurred to him after she walked away, crossed the sand and entered her car, that he wasn't exactly sure what that had meant.

He waited until Cabe brought him back to the garage to send her a clarifying text.

 _Does this mean there is no date five?_

He hadn't been sure of what response he wanted, but the feelings in his gut while waiting for her to respond told him exactly what he was hoping she would say.

Thankfully, she didn't keep him waiting long. A reply came in less than two minutes after he sent the message.

 _We agreed to have six._


	6. Date Five

**Quick shout out to all of you – thanks for supporting me in this fic, in Conflict, in Season Five. You guys rock. All your favorites and follows and reviews are noticed and appreciated more than you know.**

* * *

Date five.

Possibly – no, _probably_ , no, _definitely_ – the most nerve – wracking date since the first one.

Walter straightened up the items on the table for the hundredth time – and he hated hyperbole. They'd both agreed that it was probably best that Paige come to the garage this time. It would give them privacy to talk, to figure out if date six was going to be a formality or an actual viable being.

His phone buzzed. _I'm here. Can I let myself in?_

It was strange she even had to ask if she was allowed to walk into the garage. Walter texted back immediately. _Of course. :) I'm on the roof._

His heart started to beat faster, just a little faster, when he heard her coming up the stairs, and although he had seen her dressed up before, even more so than this, his breath still caught when he saw her. She had straightened her hair – a rare choice for her, but one he liked, because he liked her in any form – and she was wearing a pair of earrings he had gotten her shortly before it all went bad. Her dress accentuated her curves, the neckline showed off her cleavage…Walter felt a tingling in his groin and cleared his throat, shaking his head. "You look amazing."

She smiled, putting a hand on his chest and giving him a quick kiss on his mouth. "You look very nice, too."

"So, um," he said, gesturing to the table he had set out. "I made cheesy pasta. I know you like that."

"Mmm, I do," she said. "Thank you."

He hesitated again. He knew they had to talk. But he didn't want to talk. Not about their fight. Why did they always have to fight? Why couldn't it always be smiling and kissing and compliments handed back and forth?

 _Because relationships are not like that. Do you want her, or the idea of her?_

He barely entertained the question. He wanted her. He knew every relationship had its fights. He just didn't want the same things that broke them up to bubble up again on their _fourth_ date.

"Paige," he started. "I think I need to explain to you why I got defensive."

"Can I actually go first?"

"I would – yeah, okay." He nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay." She let out a breath, putting both hands on his chest. "So, you were right. I was purposefully picking dates that were the sorts of things where things happened that frustrated me…" she frowned, as if going over the sentence to make sure it made sense. "I do think it is important that we work to prevent specific things that caused issues from happening again," she said. "But it was wrong of me to treat this experiment as some sort of challenge." She paused, removing her hands from his chest and pushing them together. "But Walter, it still hurt when you said that I wasn't smart enough to use certain words."

"Paige," Walter said. "I didn't say that."

"You said I – "

"Don't usually use that word," they said together.

Walter cocked his head. "That doesn't mean you don't know the word. I just mean it was a crab. I think both of us, in a situation where we know it's a crab, would just say crab. So it felt that, it felt like you were trying to use a more scientific word to see if I would babble. And I got defensive."

"That wasn't conscious word choice," she said. "But I can see that. I can." She paused again. "Although Walter, I am never going to be smart enough for you. And I don't know how to be okay with that."

"Well, here's something," Walter said. "You aren't as smart _as_ me, no, but smart enough _for_ me? Isn't that something I get to determine?" He reached up and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "I was afraid you would get bored of me, and you ended up thinking I was bored of you. I never was."

"But Walter," she said, "I _can't_ give you intellectual stimulation, and that's what is the most important to you." She closed her eyes, looking down.

 _She's more insecure than I am._ Considering their breakup centered around both her accusation of a 'cranial affair' and her statements that the relationship was too much effort for her, Walter had, after his initial anger worn off, shouldered most of the blame. He realized now that a lot of the problems stemmed from Paige's previous relationships, too.

They were complicated. There was no getting around that.

"I know I'm not the one who has the most experience in this area," Walter said, "but I don't think a person needs to be able to get _everything_ from their partner."

She bit her lip. "I suppose. I guess what's important is that we agree what we share with each other, what we only seek from others with full disclosure, and what we can just go and do."

They'd already talked about how purposefully keeping things from each other could bring up insecurities. They'd talked about how it was the fact that Walter specifically cancelled a _date_ with Paige and then brought Florence had made that whole situation worse than the two of them just working together at the garage. And they'd talked about how Walter's Christmas Eve dream had made it difficult for Paige to brush off the lecture, because no matter how many times he swore he had no feelings for the chemist, there was still that bit of his subconscious.

But they'd also talked about what Toby had said in the hospital room that night. Walter's dream showed how highly he valued the others, putting them in better situations if he wasn't around. My default, that meant he thought he would have been worse off had he not known them.

Being married to Florence was, even within his dream, a less than ideal scenario.

"I agree," he said in response to Paige's suggestion. "And Paige, I _promise_ , I've said this before but I promise I would never do anything against our relationship. You're the only woman I've ever loved. Any of that stuff that you just do with people you're in a relationship with, I wouldn't do it with anyone else even if there was temptation, but there isn't, because nothing could be as wonderful as it was with you."

She smiled. "Same here, Walter." She leaned in and kissed him. "You _are_ difficult sometimes," she said. "But I think I want to pick fights a little bit. Or maybe not want, per se, but tend to." She bit her lip. "Ugh, I just really thought things would be okay once we talked, o – on the night that we decided to do these six dates, and it seems like we keep having the same conversations."

"I, uh, I know we can't fix our problems overnight," he said. "But…"

"But we need to keep in mind how wonderful it was when we tried."

He liked the way she put it. Smiling, he put a hand on the side of her face and leaned in to kiss her again. She kissed him back, sighing against his lips. His other hand rested on her hip, and she placed her arm on top of his, squeezing it gently as she stepped closer. Walter felt a breeze – an ever so slight one – pick up around them, and he briefly opened one eye to glance at the table. The napkins were safely underneath the utensils.

She ran her tongue along his lip, and suddenly and without warning he was hard. _No, no, no,_ he chided himself _._ He placed both his hands on her hips, shifting his backward immediately even though it was the last direction he wanted to move. He caught a moan in his throat and forced it down; he tried to think of something, anything else. It wasn't working. He pulled himself back, slightly dizzy, not wanting her to notice _anything_ and feeling incredibly embarrassed. _You're not fourteen._ "Shall we eat?" He asked, smiling at her as he straightened up and shoved his hands in his pockets.

She nodded, smiling, not seeming to notice his discomfort. "Yeah, let's."

He smiled, gesturing toward the table, and Paige turned and walked toward it. He took another deep breath, letting it out slowly, and followed her.

Paige filled her bowl with with pasta. "You know what I love about you?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"That you call macaroni and cheese 'cheesy pasta'."

"Macaroni is a specific variety of pasta," Walter said. "This is not macaroni. So, cheesy pasta."

"Fair enough." Paige put a forkful in her mouth. "Mmm, it's so good, though. Whatever the Hell it's called."

"I used that cheese blend I know you like," Walter said.

"Look. At. You." She smiled.

Walter smiled back, but then looked down at his plate, unsure. "How do I know?" He asked.

He was still looking downward, but he could see her cock her head in his peripheral vision. "What?"

"How do I know if being scientific and detailed is what you what or something to be annoyed by?"

She shifted. He'd made her uncomfortable. "I guess…"

"It just sounds like what you want is normal with the occasional Fun Fact. And I'm a lot of facts with the occasional normal."

"I know." She cleared her throat quietly. "Walter, our breakup was partly your fault. But that means it was partly mine, and I know we already talked about that, how…how we were both to blame, and stuff. But I've done a lot of talking with myself, too, about what I want and the sacrifices I have to be okay with. And I want you. I also want normal. And I thought I would rather have all of normal and none of you, but in reality, that sucks. As much as I love normal, and as much as I hate that it took being without you to realize it, I would rather have you than that. A million times over. Just maybe…not so much casual going out to eat or something but when we're on actual, planned dates…a little less of the science talk. I don't care so much why we feel the way we do, other than we were meant to have found each other. You called me your soulmate way back when. I don't think you would have if you didn't believe that we were meant to be, at least on some level."

He gave her a small smile. It was organic. It was nice.

"I know we said that we still had these feelings for each other when we decided to do this, but that's a little different than just saying them flat out. So…" Paige got up, dropping her napkin next to her bowl and walking around the small table. She held out her hand, and Walter took it, standing up. She took her other hand in hers and looked right up into his eyes. "I love you, Walter."

This time, the smile was even wider, almost a grin. "And I love you, Paige."

She rose on her tiptoes, even though it wasn't entirely necessary, and gave him a quick kiss. "Let's eat your cheese noodles. Then I'll tell you about the next date. Ralph helped me plan it."

"Yeah?"

"Uh – huh. It's nothing…most people wouldn't consider it a big deal. But I think it is. And I think when you find out what we're doing, you'll agree."


	7. Date Six

Paige had told him to "dress professionally" for their sixth date, the final one of the experiment, and Walter found himself changing several times before she picked him up, unsure of exactly what that meant. What were they doing? They'd gotten past the is – this – a – job – interview – to – you concern of his, so this wasn't a warning from her that he needed to really, really impress her or else this was the last date they would ever go on. To him, dressing professionally meant dressing like he did every day, so he put on black trousers, a button up shirt, and black dress shoes. At the last minute, he selected a bow tie. She liked him in bow ties. And it set him apart from what he wore on a day to day basis.

Paige showed up with a clutch purse – he was pretty sure that was what they were called – and a dark blue dress that looked almost like a top and skirt combination, the skirt flaring out where the rest of the outfit hugged her body. Walter realized when she lifted her arms to hug him that it was, in fact, not a dress. He put his hands on her waist, his thumb finding the strip of skin between the two pieces of clothing.

They kissed briefly. "Alright, your big third date. What's the plan?"

"It's not time yet to reveal the plan," Paige said, touching a finger to his lips. "But it's gonna be big, trust me. You trust me?"

He nodded.

She raised her eyebrows. " _Do you trust me_?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Paige gave a little laugh. "Okay, I wasn't necessarily looking for the ma'am. I'll take it, though." She hugged him again, and he chuckled along with her as he pulled her close. "Okay," she said after a silence, "As much as I love being like this, we have a…a date to get to."

"Ah, you almost slipped up there."

"Well, I'm pretty excited about this," she said. "Hop in the car."

"The university?" Walter asked, looking toward her and cocking his head. "At night?" It was October. "Is this some haunted thing?"

"Why, do you know something about this place I don't?"

He rolled his eyes and she giggled. "No, Walter, nothing haunted. But there is a really cool mansion that's opening on the weekends."

"Sylvester's Super Fun Guy characters are not real," Walter said, "but he still enjoys them. I suppose I can see the appeal in ghosts in that sense, though why anyone would actively want to be scared is beyond me."

They got out of the car, and Paige grabbed his hand, leading him up to one of the class buildings. "I think it was Edgar Allen Poe who said that people enjoy being scared when they know they're safe. It's because of the adrenaline rush, or something."

"I see."

"Falling in love is kinda the same concept, if you think about it like that."

Thinking about it like that, suddenly Walter found himself a fan of haunted houses.

Paige led them inside, locating a classroom with a poster propped up in front of it. "Looks like there's some event tonight," she said, her tone that of a person who was trying to seem curious but really knew exactly what was going on. "Let's check it out."

"You typically need tickets to – " He trailed off when Paige smiled and flashed two glossy strips at him. "Oh. Okay."

"Hi there," Paige said to a lady standing with a clipboard at the door, on the other side of the poster. "Here you go."

"Thank you," she said, taking the tickets and marking something off on her clipboard. "Enjoy your night."

"How do you know what names to mark off?" Walter tried asking, but Paige was already pulling him into the classroom. Inside an older gentleman was standing at the podium, bringing up a PowerPoint presentation. There were chairs – empty chairs – set up neatly in rows, the two in the center of the front row with cards marked _Date Six._

"What…what is this?" He asked, feeling his heart start to beat a little faster.

"Well," she said, "you heard me tell Ralph that, essentially, the last thing I wanted to do was go to that lecture with you." Slipping her hand into his, she continued. "And I've realized lately that I can't very well complain about you not being completely into my interests if I'm not completely into yours. Just because what I like doing is _more so_ what 'typical dating' is like doesn't make that more valid. So…" she smiled. "We set this up. Rented the room, hired Dr. Oldenworth at his usual requirement of fifty ticket sales. It isn't the exact same lecture because you've already been to that one and it wouldn't be efficient for you to hear the same information twice. But Dr. Oldenworth is from the same team – Ralph looked into that for me – and he's going to be talking about…honestly I can't pronounce it all. But it's just for you and me. We're the only ones here."

"Um," Dr. Oldenworth said hesitantly from the podium, "I'm not sure that's true. All fifty tickets were purchased."

"Yes," Paige said. "They were. By people who wanted to give you the revenue while also ensuring random people wouldn't be here. I know you have to wait until eight o'clock to start, but trust me, we are the only people here."

Oldenworth adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose. "I must say, if my husband had presented me with such an intellectually oriented gift of a date back when we were dating, he might have become my husband a little sooner."

The grin and mischievous wink Oldenworth gave did little to make up for the jolt of anxiety Walter felt at his remark. They had just gotten back…no, they weren't even formally back together yet. Of course, Oldenworth didn't know that. To him, they probably seemed like what they should have been – a couple together for over a year who may be starting to think along those lines. He wasn't sure what to make of the squeeze Paige gave his hand, but he took it as reassurance.

"Who bought the other tickets?" Walter asked.

"Oh, you know." She shrugged casually. "Me. Cabe. Allie. Happy. Toby. Sly. Florence. Me again."

"Huh."

She smiled and kissed him.

Oldenworth cleared his throat. "Ladies an…" Pausing, he furrowed his brow. "Lady and gentleman. Good evening, and welcome to…"

Yeah. Walter didn't blame Paige for not being able to pronounce the topic.

He was impressed with the way Oldenworth forged on, likely exactly as he had intended save the singular intro, as if he had a whole room of people to captivate. Walter wasn't sure he could do the same thing. He was sure he would be thrown off, would pick one of the few attendees to stare at and never break eye contact, making that person uncomfortable. Or maybe he would get arrogant, state that the people who had bought out the lecture were effectively robbing forty – eight other people of the opportunity to hear such a genius speak. Maybe this was why Dr. Oldenworth was somebody's husband, and Walter O'Brien was not.

Or maybe his recognizing what he would do was a sign that he would be able to avoid doing those things now.

The lecture was an hour long, and incredibly mentally stimulating. Walter hadn't even considered a few of the points that Dr. Oldenworth was making. That didn't happen very often.

Paige, to her credit, was trying. He noticed about halfway through that her eyes had glazed over, but she wasn't yawning, wasn't shifting in her seat, and wasn't asleep on his shoulder. The material was over her head. But she was here with him. She had organized all of this _for_ him. And a couple times, he saw her look over at him and smile, as if to herself, at how interested he was.

When she told him at their last date that she loved him, he didn't doubt it. But somehow now he was even more sure.

The lecture concluded, and Dr. Oldenworth thanked them for coming, walking around the podium to shake both of their hands. "I haven't given a presentation for such a small crowd since I told a class of freshman that the Wednesday before Thanksgiving class was optional," he joked. "But it was lovely to be part of such a thoughtful date night. You have a wonderful woman there, sir."

"I have a wonderful man, too," Paige said, squeezing Walter's arm and smiling at him.

They exited the university and were pulling back out onto the highway when the radio alerted them to a three car accident around the corner from the garage. "That's gonna take at least an hour to clear up," Paige commented.

"Just drive back to the condo," Walter said. "I don't mind hopping on the bus around the corner. By the time it gets around to that stop it should be mostly cleared."

"I don't want to make you walk, though."

"It's half a block to the stop from your place and two blocks to the garage from that stop. It's not a problem."

She was quiet, then shrugged. "Okay. Probably the path of least resistance."

Another traffic alert came on, but this was for an intersection miles from where they were going. "Thank God," Paige said with a laugh. "I mean, not great for the guy on the moped. Or, from the sound of it, mostly the moped itself. I would be running out of bus stops to drop you at."

She switched lanes, made a left turn, and within minutes they had pulled up to her condo. "I'll walk you up," Walter said, getting out of the car and offering her his arm. "We need to…"

"Talk about the past six weeks," she said, nodding. "Yes, we do."

"I don't know really what to say besides that I had a wonderful time on this experiment," he said as they walked to her stoop.

She turned toward him. "Me too. And now that we've completed all six dates…" She squeezed both his hands. "Walter, I want to keep this going."

He nodded, feeling his throat tighten. "I do, too."

"I know we still have to work on, you know, communicating, and not taking each other for granted," Paige continued, "but I _want_ to do all of that."

"Yes. Maybe I could have lived without you before I knew you. But now that I do…and now that we've been with each other, I just…" he shook his head.

"I know what you mean," she said, softly. "Somewhere down the line I forgot how to exist without you. And I don't want to remember."

She leaned against him, pressing her lips against his, and Walter slid his arms around her, kissing her back. "I love you," he murmured.

"Mmmm." She bumped her nose against his before kissing him again. "I love you, too. So much."

He moved a hand up to the side of her face, cradling it as he deepened their kiss. "I know it's time for me to go," he mumbled, "but I would be okay if we never had to stop kissing."

Paige pulled back slightly, cocking her head. "So…we're doing this. Right? Continuing to date? Officially be back together?"

He nodded again. "Yes. Yes."

"Okay, well…" She lifted her eyebrows, tipping her head toward her door. "Ralph isn't home. How about we…go inside and…start date seven right now?"

* * *

 **And there you have it. For those of you that like reading smut, I'll have one more chapter for you coming in a few days – hence the name of the fic, Seven Dates, being different than the experiment parameters of six dates. For those of you who would rather not read smut, this chapter is your conclusion. I hope it satisfies.**


	8. Bang, Bang, Bangity Bang

**No real note here, except to say I hope you guys enjoy a fuck ton of smut.**

* * *

When she locked the door and turned back toward him, Paige was sure the grin on Walter's face was a mirror image of hers. She lifted one shoulder, then the other, tossing her hair an an attempt to seem flirty. "So this is my place," she said, remembering the first date in this experiment, where they pretended they actually were on their first date ever.

Walter laughed, then stepped toward her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him eagerly. They had both agreed not to sleep together during their experiment, and even now she believed that had been a good idea, but she was even more glad that the experiment phase of their relationship was over. She'd spent more than one of their six dates silently telling herself to simmer down. She didn't have to now.

Walter was slowly running his hands over her, over her shoulders and her back and her hips, and Paige pressed herself against him, a hand on the side of his face as they kissed more deeply. "I love the way your hands feel," she whispered against his mouth.

His voice was low. "I love the way you feel under them."

 _Shit._ Paige tipped her head up and to the side as he moved his lips to her neck, and when her eyes opened briefly she realized the curtains weren't closed. "Walter," she said, putting a hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry!" He said, stepping back.

"What?" She asked, understanding coming to her the instant she said it. He'd slid his hand around to her backside just as she noticed the window. "No, Walter," she said with a little laugh. "The window."

"Oh." His complexion made him far less prone to obvious blushing than her, but she could see pink in his cheeks as he laughed.

She stepped closer again, lifting her eyebrows and dropping her voice into a tone she hoped was seductive. "Silly genius. You know I love that." Giving him a wink, she stepped back, turning to cross the room and tug the curtains closed. "Perfect," she said, turning around to find him standing next to the couch, one hand on it as if for balance. "Total. Privacy." She approached him, her fingers locating a button on his shirt. "You are wearing too many clothes."

"Mmmm. Am I."

She grinned, lifting her chin so she could kiss him again simultaneously with unbuttoning his shirt. "We might leave the bow tie."

He smirked. "I know that's a bit of a weakness of yours."

"Ah, planning to get up my skirt all along, huh?"

"Sounds good to me," he said, kissing her again, a hand at her waistband. "Let me taste you, Paige," he groaned against her lips, moving his other hand to where it was before and gripping her decisively.

"Holy hell, Walter," she managed to respond, feeling dizzy at the combination of his demand and the feel of his hands on her. She dropped backward onto the couch, lifting her knees as he dropped to his. Walter tugged her skirt and underwear down together, tugging them around her ankles and tossing them into the adjacent chair before wrapping his arms around her thighs and putting his mouth on her with the eagerness of their first time and the skill of their last time.

"Oh, fuck," Paige choked out, reaching behind her to grip the top of the couch. Her other hand snaked down, curling in his hair, and Walter hummed against her, making her muscles twitch as a sharp moan moved through her lips. According to the internet, Walter was doing this wrong. _You can't just go for it; that's painful, you gotta tease and build up or you're gonna get kicked in the balls._ No. Not her. Everyone was different and Walter knew that for her, specifically, and especially when she was already in the mood, the way to get her writhing was to _just go for it._ All that other nonsense the internet said to do first didn't do anything for her anyway. Thankfully, Walter knew that. Even knowing her body, she didn't know how on Earth he managed to light her up this way, especially not this quickly, but he never failed to make her completely at his mercy when he was doing this. "You're so good at – _oh_." Her hips bucked; she ground against his mouth and he tightened his grip, holding her still. "Oh, God, Walt."

She was unraveling, less than two minutes had passed, this was almost embarrassingly fast, but he knew exactly how to get her and this was something she hadn't enjoyed nearly as much as usual when they were apart, too angry or too guilty or both to allow herself to think about him. It felt wrong, like something she didn't have permission for anymore, and actively forcing him out of her head when she was touching herself was a major mood killer. She'd also reasoned, since they were broken up, that keeping him in her head would make it harder to get over him.

Now that his head was between her legs again she wasn't sure she could have named a reason for their separation if asked. _Now_ it was hard to think about anything else but the sensations he was creating with his mouth and tongue and he kept making these sounds in his throat that vibrated up to their point of contact and "Walter," she blurted, wanting to warn him, but his name turned into a moan and her hips shook, as she gasped for air, drawing in a long, shuddering gasp when his tongue flattened and swept over her gently, soothingly, helping her down.

He lifted his head, crawling up between her thighs and kissing her neck, then her lips. "I love you," he said between kisses, sliding his arms around her as she shifted to put enough room between her back and the couch. "I love you," he said again, "and it feels so good to be able to say again."

"I love you, too," she said, her arms around his neck. She'd never stopped. Not for a moment. She'd told him that, way back at the start of this experience. But somehow _of course I still have those feelings for you_ didn't sound quite the same as _I love you._ Even when they'd admitted, on a later date, that they were still in love, saying it this way, in this moment, it all felt more real. It was officially something they were saying again, and not just something they had said once upon a time.

Walter groaned into her mouth as they kissed again. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, their hips intimately nestled together, and she could feel how badly he wanted her. "Bedroom?" She suggested when their lips separated briefly. He grunted against her cheek but didn't make any effort to get up. She didn't want to move either, but they were both still partially clothed and his pants were still up over his hips and if they wanted to do anything else they would have to move away first. "Oh, Walter," she breathed when his mouth moved to her neck. God, why couldn't their clothes just fade away? She lay against the back of the couch, eyes closed, shivering with pleasure as he kept on kissing her neck.

"You're incredible," he murmured, running his tongue up to her earlobe and sucking lightly on it. Paige pushed her hand into his shirt, which still hung on his shoulders, locating one of his nipples and rolling the skin between her fingers. Walter tensed, his hips squirming. "Bedroom."

"Mmm hmm." Paige reached her hand out, and after Walter steadied himself he assisted her in getting up. She put her mouth back on his, wanting to somehow kiss him enough to make up for all the days she hadn't.

She was never going to kiss him enough. Halfway down the hall, she went to kiss him again, the momentum causing him to stumble against the wall. She curled her fingers through his hair, pressing her body up against his and moaning as he slid his arms around her. Somehow she found herself out of the rest of her clothes, and his shirt on the floor with them. She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the bedroom as if he would have forgotten where it was, and she had barely settled on the bed before he was tugging his pants and boxers down his legs and stepping out of them. She felt the mattress shift as he climbed onto the bed and moved over her, dropping his head down to her neck.

"Oh, God." She closed her eyes, curling his hair around her fingers. "I want you so much," she whispered, her voice coming out more sensual than she'd intended. Not a bad direction.

Walter groaned again, his head against her folds, and she flexed her hips as if to attempt to pull him inside. He reached down, making sure he was properly positioned, and then started to push his hips forward. Paige pushed upward, widening her hips, but he was only halfway in when he stopped, grunted, pulled out, and then pushed forward again, still only moving about halfway.

"Wal _ter_ ," she protested, wiggling under him.

"Sorry, just…"

She stopped moving, looking up at him curiously. Was he having reservations? "Walter?"

He pulled completely out of her, kneeling between her thighs. "It's just that…since we broke up I haven't, uh, well…"

She could tell by his stammering at least what category the issue was in. "I know that. We already said neither of us have slept with any… _oh_." Paige cut off as realization dawned on her. From the day they broke up to now had been…Paige couldn't do the math in her head, but it was well over one hundred days, and probably closer to one hundred and fifty. "Really? Not at _all_?" At the shake of his head, she reached up and briefly laid her hand against the side of his face. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so," he said. "Just a moment." He closed his eyes, groaning quietly when she reached out and ran her finger along him, making him twitch. The pleasure was evident on his face, and so Paige did it again, and this time he flinched, his abs tightening. "Don't touch me, please."

"Is it that bad?"

"Well, I mean…"

"Walter, be honest."

"The ache goes all the way up here." He put his hand on his lower stomach.

"Hey." She sat up and put a hand on his chest, pushing slightly. "Let me take the edge off. We can do this later." She moved her hand on his thigh. "Lay back."

Walter did. "Paige, you…" he began.

"Shh," she said, putting a finger to his lips. "Just relax." She lay alongside of him, her shoulder at his hip, her feet sliding underneath the pillows at the head of the bed so neither of them would have to put their heads on feet pillows later. Reaching over, she took him in her hand again, rubbing her thumb against a particular spot and watching his abdomen clench. "Yeah, let's take care of you," she said. He would last longer than he thought he would inside her – no one ever accused Walter O'Brien of not having willpower – but he deserved to not have to steel himself like that. At least not against his first orgasm in months. And even disregarding that he'd already gotten her off, he would take care of her tonight. He always did. She may have called him selfish in the past, but never when it came to this.

Paige positioned herself and then wrapped her mouth around his head, her tongue stroking it in a circular motion. Walter's eyes closed, a grunt coming from deep in his chest. "Uh – uh," she said, lifting her head. She knew that grunt. "Don't try to hold it. I don't give a shit if you come in thirty seconds."

"Okay," he said, peering down his body at her. His eyes squeezed shut when she wrapped her hand around him and pumped it a couple of times, his hips pushing up. "That may…be what happens."

She smiled at him, wrapping her lips around him again and swirling her tongue before dropping her head, taking all of him in and hollowing out her cheeks, pleased when it seemed his whole body jerked and he let out a loud moan preceded by her name. She stayed down, keeping the suction, using her tongue, feeling even more turned on at the way he whimpered and a cuss word hissed its way through his lips. Then she lifted her head, coughed once, and wrapped her hand around his shaft, lightly squeezing and twisting as she moved it up and down. She dropped her head to just below her hand, wrapping her mouth around the skin there and drawing as much as she could into her mouth; she could feel in the tightness how close he was and it thrilled her.

"Oooh," Walter groaned.

"Feels good?"

"That feels so good."

Pointing her tongue and moving it back and forth along the raphe, she moved her hand at the same pace. Walter groaned again; he was running his fingers through her hair and he involuntarily twisted some in his hand, releasing when she grunted and lifted her head, shaking it slightly. Lowering again, Paige continued with her tongue, letting go of him with her hand so his erection would rest up against his stomach, allowing her to rub the entire length of the underside with her palm. He was moaning very consistently now; he wasn't normally silent but usually she had to really tease him to get him even close to this vocal. She remembered those times on their dates when he'd stopped kissing her suddenly, made some excuse to move away, and she wondered just how wound up he had gotten in the time they were apart, only to not allow himself any relief. Paige increased the pace of her hand, focusing on the top, while she sucked at him farther down.

"Oh no," Walter grunted. "Paige, Paige, stop."

She didn't want to – and he wasn't supposed to be holding back – but they both took _stop_ very seriously, so she withdrew all stimulation, sitting up as he cringed and grunted and then panted, hard. She knew that face and that sound, she'd edged him before, on purpose, but "Walter, I said it was okay."

"Do you have condoms?"

Right. He hadn't been expecting that they would do this. "Yeah," Paige said. There were a few left over. "But…"

"Please get one." His breathing was heavy. "I don't want to make a mess."

"Walter, I'll just…no, okay, I'll get one," she said at the look on his face. "That's fine." She kissed him before getting up, jogging on her tiptoes to the bathroom and grabbing the box, relieved when she shook it to hear that there were several left. She pulled one out, tore it open, and dropped the box on the mattress before covering him. Then she took him in her mouth again, using her hand below this time, rubbing her tongue along the same sensitive spot from earlier.

"Oh, my God," Walter wheezed, his arms out, bent at the elbow, with his hands flipped up so they were level with his ears. Paige could see how tightly they were gripping the sheet. It was fun to keep him like this, desperately close, not quite doing enough to let him go over, but tonight she just wanted to give him some relief. She wrapped her lips around him again, tapping his head with her tongue before dropping back down and sucking hard while her hand continued to massage him below.

"Shit, shit, _shit_ ," Walter moaned, his hips bucking against her. "Paige, you're… _oh_ God. Keep doing that." He was quiet for the briefest instant before his moans filled the room, his hips pushing upward. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Paige smiled to herself. She had no such intention.

"Please don't st – " Walter's words turned into a loud wimper, then a louder sound accompanied his hips lifting off of the mattress. Paige lifted her head, putting both hands to work, moving quickly up at his tip and massaging him below. Walter made a sound that could only be described as a bellow, her name falling somewhere in near the end of it.

"Come for me," she said, and it wasn't more than a few more seconds before he made that sound again, enough so that Paige was glad Ralph wasn't home, and she kept her hands on him, moving slower and more carefully now, knowing he would be more sensitive. Without context, she thought, it might sound like he was dying. Thankfully, she knew him as well as he knew her, and she knew that sound and it made her almost smug. His hips trembled, and she kissed against the condom. She could see his muscles flexing under his skin, and his chest heaved as he rode it out and gasped for breath. When his body started to relax, she kissed him once more before scooting up and kissing him on the neck. His breathing was heavy and raw, and she put a hand on his chest. "In and out, Walter. In and out."

"Oh my God," he said again.

"That felt pretty good, huh?"

"So good, it was so good," he slurred, tipping his head toward her. "I think I may be dead."

That made her laugh, especially considering her earlier thought. "Well, you're breathing, and that's a good sign."

"Come here," he said, rolling on his side and scooting to her. He reached down between them, removing the condom, and tied it off before tossing it at the trash can near the bed. Paige cringed, thinking of how bad his throwing arm was, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise when the condom dropped neatly into the can. "Damn, Walt," she said, turning back to him and grinning as she put her lips on his. Walter slid his hand around her hip, tugging her closer, and she closed her eyes, sighing happily as their lips locked again and again and their hands gently caressed each other, from hips to shoulders and down arms and around the back of each other's necks. "I missed this so much," she murmured against his lips.

"I c – can still feel it," he mumbled as she ran her hands over his abdomen. "The rev – reverberations."

She kissed him. "That was probably one of the most powerful ones you've had with me." They had both been incredibly wound upon getting back from the island, and that night was probably the only time that compared.

"Mmm," he said, stroking the side of her face. "It's always better when I'm inside you."

"Yeah?" She could feel herself blushing.

"Mmm hmm."

"We may have stumbled at communicating sometimes," she added, kissing him again, "but we were always so good at this."

"It's ironic, isn't it?" He asked. "We're good at this because we listened to each other and figured things out. And yet that was exactly what we struggled with outside of the bedroom."

"Not anymore, right?"

"Mmm. Right." He smiled. "God, I love you, Paige."

"I love you, too," she said, putting a hand up to the side of his face. "You're the love of my life." She accidentally bumped him as she scooted closer, and when she felt him tense briefly, asked, "you're still sensitive, huh?"

"Mmm hmm."

She grinned playfully. "I kinda wish you were that easy all the time."

He looked surprised. "You…you do?"

"Well, for doing that anyway," she said. "Less work for me, and I love the way you look and sound when you can't handle it."

He reached up, wrapping his hand around her wrist and moving her hand to where he could kiss it gently. "Face the other way and cuddle up to me."

She smiled, shimmying over to her other side and into his arms. Walter had one arm under her shoulder, the other rested on her hip. She felt his lips where her shoulder met her neck at the same time the hand around her front found one of her breasts. "Oh, that's good," she said, pushing her chest against his hand. "Oh, that's nice."

"Good," Walter said, his voice low and intimate.

She knew he would need a little while, and he had certainly picked a good way to pass said time. She wiggled against him, sighing and moaning and sighing again, savoring the feel of the callous on his thumb moving over her nipple. "I love the way you touch me," she said, tipping her head back toward him. Walter shifted so he could lean over her shoulder and kiss her. "Are _you_ still sensitive?"

"Mmm," she said. "I think I'm okay." When his hand slid lower, his index finger finding her nerves, it confirmed she was most definitely okay. He moved his finger slowly as his other hand continued to massage and rub at her breasts, not wanting to bring her too close but just give her a low wave to ride on while he recovered. "I like that," she murmured, wiggling up closer to him.

"Mmm, and I like _that_ ," he whispered, kissing her ear. "Sorry that I'm a bit out of practice."

She giggled. "We're both a little rusty. But I've at least – _oh_ , that's nice – done this with _me_ recently. Oh _shit_ ," she gasped when he doubled the pace of his finger. She suspected he was trying to get her to stop teasi – stop giving him a hard ti – there was really no good way to process that thought in this context. She shifted, flipping back over to face him. "I need this," she said, scooting against him, her breasts pressing against his chest as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. "I love what you were doing but I need this." Walter's word for sex was usually _intimacy_ , but intimacy was so much more than that. Sex didn't have to be intimate at all, but it was her favorite thing about it. She suspected that it was his euphemism because that was his favorite part, too. Tipping her head up, Paige caught Walter's lips with her own, and when they kissed again it was slow and sensual.

"You're amazing," he whispered, his arms curled tenderly around her. She sighed, planting slow but sloppy kisses along his jaw. She wanted to ask him how he was feeling; normally he needed ten or so minutes and it had been about that long, but his previous release had been long and hard and she knew sometimes that affected things.

"I may be okay in just a few," he said, tugging her closer, answering her question as if he had read her mind.

"Mmm, move back up?" She realized as soon as she spoke that she wasn't very clear, but Walter understood, and they changed positions, ending up back with their feet pointed toward the foot of the bed. She straddled him, leaning over to kiss his lips and flashing back to their night in the park, when they'd been kissing in almost this exact position, albeit fully clothed. She remembered how he had moved her hurriedly off his lap after a couple minutes, and despite understanding at the time, she realized how much more sense it made to her now. Now, when they were back in her bed, and when he had no such reason to worry, and they curled their arms around each other, kissing strong and slow.

"I love the way you feel," Walter said, his hands moving from her hips to her stomach and up to her breasts. He squeezed them, running his thumbs along the undersides. Paige's breath hitched. She put her hands on top of his, rocking her hips back and forth on his thighs. Walter played at her breasts for another minute or so and then slid his hands back down to her hips. "God, Paige."

She could feel his body starting to respond to hers, and she let him move her hips with his hands. She put hers on top of his, sliding her fingers in the gaps between his own, and smiled down at him. Walter O'Brien laying beneath her wearing nothing but a bow tie. She thought, only halfway joking, that maybe they wouldn't have broken up in the first place if she'd seen him like this before.

Paige leaned over, reaching for the top drawer handle on her bedside table, but she couldn't quite reach it. "Walter, can you – yes." She saw his hand slip inside, feeling around, and then he lifted it up, the toy she was looking for between his fingers. Paige took it from him, lifting her hips up off of him and scooting back ever so slightly. He was getting hard again, but it would take him longer this time, both to be fully ready and then to reach his climax. In contrast, hers were always much easier to reach after the first one, and as much as she loved having him inside her, sometimes she reached the limit of penetrative activity her body was able to enjoy. Everyone talked up a man with stamina, but in truth, most women could only handle so much of it.

Paige reached for Walter, adjusting so his shaft lay up against his lower belly. She lay the toy along the length of him, on top, and carefully lowered herself, pinning it between them and shifting until she was sure it wouldn't as easily slip out of position. She leaned forward, kissing Walter and running her hand over his chest before trailing it down and clicking the toy on. The feeling was nice, but duller than she expected, and Paige shifted again, ever so slightly, attempting to get into prime position without dislodging the vibrator. Her muscles clenched when she found it, a quick gasp rushing out of her lips.

Walter's eyes were closed, his hands on her thighs, and Paige felt the pressure from his fingertips increasing as his chest movements became more pronounced. She put her hands on his stomach, wanting to feel his muscles tightening from the same sensations that were making hers quiver. "Oh, God," she whispered, pressing her hips down on the vibrator. She remembered a joking comment that he had made another time they had done this – _Yet another unrealistic body standard for us men. My penis cannot vibrate on command._

He'd laughed pretty hard at her response – _not with that attitude it can't._

Paige found the dial and clicked up the intensity a notch, hearing an _oooh_ from Walter and making a similar sound barely a second later. She carefully moved her hips, just a little, sliding her clit back and forth along the length of the toy. She wasn't going to last long from this; it was incredible how much better this was with the two of them together, even though he wasn't doing a thing but enjoy the same sensations she was. But that was _why_ it was better. The majority of the population got the same image flashing into their mind when someone said the word _sex_ , but there was so much more to it than that. And it was the _so much more to it_ part that she often enjoyed the most. Like right now, with them barely moving, not even, as Toby would say, _touching parts_ , but the eye contact and their hands on each other combined with the buzzing device stimulating them together made this so, so…

"S – oh my God," Paige gasped, feeling her legs start to shake. She leaned forward, resting her arms on his chest, wanting to pump her hips hard against the toy but knowing how frustrated she would feel if it moved out of place. So she would take a few seconds longer. It wasn't the end of the world. She gasped again, the closeness of her and Walter's chests making her extra aware of how his own breathing had grown harder. "Good?" She managed, knowing by his half closed eyelids and the way his nails were digging into her skin what the answer would be even before he nodded and groaned quietly. "I'm gonna come in a second," she said, pushing up on her hands and looking down at him as she bit down on her lip and her eyes rolled back in her head. "And then…" a moan necessitated a pause, "and then I need you inside me." She moaned again. " _God_ , I'm close."

"You need help?" He asked, his eyes opening briefly, just in time to see her shake her head and squeeze her eyes shut as her whole body shuddered and kept shuddering as the continued stimulation sent her through aftershock after aftershock. Paige gasped for air, feeling cold in her extremities as waves of pleasure rolled through her body. Lifting up and off of him, she leaned down to catch his lips with hers again, savoring the tenderness of the kiss before she reached for the vibrator, which had rolled down onto the mattress. Switching it back to the lowest setting, she began stroking him with it, like she had with her finger earlier, as she curled her other hand around one of his and waited for the slowing pulses in her own body to come to a stop.

Walter's eyes closed. "That thing was a good purchase," he mumbled.

She grinned. "I agree." She kept moving it slowly and deliberately along his shaft, knowing how much the low vibrations of the first setting built him up without frustrating him too quickly. "I still can't believe you didn't touch yourself for over four months," she commented.

"Well. Didn't feel right." His eyes opened slightly. "Nothing else really does it anymore."

"I wouldn't have been upset with you for thinking about me," she said, even though she had had the same hesitations on her end. "You didn't have to torture yourself like that."

He gave a shrug – as much of one as he could manage from that position. "It wasn't really. I didn't think about it much…" he gave a small breathy moan, his fingers starting to curl around the bedsheet. "Not until we…started the experiment."

Now she just felt flat out _bad_ for straddling him in the park. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be sorry. I'm the one who…who was…uh…" He reached for her wrist, lifting the toy off of him and shook his head to gather his thoughts. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I was getting so worked up on a few of our dates and I was so worried you would notice."

She'd thought she'd noticed, for the briefest moment, when they were kissing on the roof top on Date Five, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "You're a genius who loves control and intellect," she said, raising an eyebrow at him for the okay to resume what she had been doing. When he nodded, she clicked the toy up one and made contact with him again. "There is almost nothing I like more than turning you into an incoherent mess."

"Agreed."

"You like making me a mess or you like me making you one?"

Walter nodded. "Yes."

Paige saw his stomach muscles clench right before he moaned again, and she clicked the toy off and tossed it aside, leaning down to kiss him. "Get on top of me," she said in a whisper. She settled onto her back as Walter rolled on his side and then over her. She reached for him, drawing him down to kiss her as she lifted her ankles and wrapped her legs around him. "I love you," he whispered, kissing her throat. He reached down to position himself, Paige ran her hand over his chest, and _God_ everything felt right with the world when he pushed all the way into her and ground his hips against hers, reaching down to grip her rear and keep them close together.

"Oh, you feel perfect," she breathed, her eyes falling closed as he began to move, pumping his hips rhythmically and with a level of control that was a stark contrast from the man who was afraid to go inside her at all a half an hour earlier. From this position they were easily able to kiss, and Paige put both hands on his neck, hooking a finger under the bow tie and holding him down near her. She kissed him firmly, deeply, a moan manifesting in her throat but she held it back, wanting to kiss him as long as she could, feeling her body tighten up in the effort of holding it back.

She tore her lips from his, a loud moan rushing through them, and with a quick breath of air she caught his lower lip between both of hers, and she heard and felt him grunt when she ran her tongue along him. The hand on her hip gripped her tighter, and she put her head back against the pillows, her vision briefly blurring. "Shit, Walter." Tipping her head back, she grabbed his bow tie, dropping her head just below it and sucking on the soft skin where his neck met his shoulder. She was pleased at the sound that provoked from Walter. Rocking her hips up against his, Paige reached down and grabbed the hand at her hip, pulling it upward, and Walter got the message, locating one of her breasts and beginning to knead it, periodically rubbing at her nipple with his thumb.

Paige didn't know how long they continued like that, bodies moving together in tandem, alternating moaning into each other, and she knew she was going to be tired and sore in the morning but she didn't care. "You close?" She whispered, her lips against his ear, when Walter angled his hips, thrusting deeper and with a quickened tempo.

"I am," he groaned, quietly, his breath heavy and hot.

"Me too." Paige panted. "Can you…your mouth…" she patted the hand that was caressing her breast, and Walter adjusted again, arcing his back enough to lower his head and wrap his lips around her areola, his tongue teasing her nipple as he sucked gently.

"Oh," Paige gasped, curling her fingers into his hair. "That'll do it." She wrapped her legs tighter around him, rolling her hips faster. Walter's lips abruptly left her and he moaned loudly. Paige whimpered; he put his mouth back around her and moved his tongue furiously, and she swore she saw stars in her vision as she pulsed between her legs, as her body quaked, as mouth opened and nothing came out.

"Oh, God, Paige," Walter moaned, stretching back out and mashing his lips to hers. His ultimate weakness was the feel of her coming apart around him, and he always wanted to be kissing her when it was his turn. Paige kissed him back, both hands on the sides of his face, letting him know that she wanted him to finish kissing her as much as he did. She slipped in an "I love you" in between kisses, and Walter groaned again. He pushed all the way in, pulled out almost as far, and then shoved his hips forward again, as far as he could go, before stilling and groaning again. "Oh God. _Oh_ God." He kissed her again, then shuddered and let out a lower pitched grunt. "I…"

"Shh," she said, putting her lips back on his, kissing him slower and with more tenderness now that they were both still and satisfied. He lifted off of her and settled down on the mattress on his back, his arm up, hand laying across his forehead. Paige flexed an ankle – she had a foot cramp, and shifted onto her side, putting her head on his chest, hearing his heart thumping against her.

"I…" Walter paused for breath. "Give me a few minutes and I can shower and be out of here."

"Out of here?" She lifted her head. "Did you not want to stay?"

He looked perplexed. "Well, that isn't…I assumed…we weren't planning to…so…"

She smiled. "Walter, you're not intruding. Ralph knows we're back together, he loves you, he figured at some point you would be staying over again."

"Are you sure it's not too soon?"

She raised an eyebrow and gave a wry smile. "After what we were just doing, you're asking if falling asleep in my general vicinity is moving too fast?"

"Fair enough." He pulled her closer and kissed her again. "I do want to stay."

"That makes two of us." She ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm so happy."

"Me, too." God, she loved the look in his eyes when he looked at her. And when he smiled, it was, somehow, even better. "I am sorry again about earlier."

"Pssh." She smiled and shook her head. "Walter, this was one of the best nights of my life. All of it. From the second we started our sixth date, all the way to now. And this is definitely the most perfect seventh date I've ever had."

Walter chuckled at that. "I would have to say same for me."

She raised her eyebrows again. "And you know what?"

"Hmm. What?"

"If this is us _out_ of practice…"

"I hope the rest of our relationship, going forward, is as successful as this is."

She nodded, smiled, and lowered her head again, snuggling close to him. "I have a feeling we'll be just fine."


End file.
